A Lost silent moan has traveled far from its bed.
There's no switch to turn off my head.
Late as always, I can't sleep these days.
Feel the pain in my soul as it decays.
How long is it going to take to get through this depressive phase?
Empty inside like a mannequin, motionless, silent & cold
Rotting inside, I don't feel like myself, I feel old.
It's killing me when you're away.
It kills me that I can't runaway.
Is there anything more discouraging as an empty inbox? !
Anything more discouraging than the slow hands of the clock? !
A few miraculous rays of light into the darkness
And I'm drowning in my thoughts, I'm still wide awake!
Tired - I surrender - Pull me up, for god's sake!
Comments about this poem (Oppression by Sameera Alshaikh )
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